Even Humphrey Bogart Pterodactyl cries sometimes…
By Anna Rettberg
Casey Muratori
Growing up in the early 1900s, Humphrey Bogart Pterodactyl was raised within the context of traditional Western gender roles: men were never supposed to cry, and women were never supposed to say anything about it when the men invariably started to cry, usually about something relatively insignificant. Thus poor Humphrey was indoctrinated from an early age with the notion that it is unacceptable for a man to shed a tear even in private, much less in public.
But even so, once in a great while, when he is told news of a new and fantastic work of interactive media, it touches his heart in an intimate, non-surgical way. His eyes swell. His throat tightens. His loins tingle with a certain anticipatory concupiscence that he would rather not discuss due to the fact that he is a human/bird hybrid. And in that one, beautiful moment, a single, solitary tear falls from his starlit eye.
As if you couldn’t tell by the image at the top of this page, dear readers, this moment right now  —  a moment among moments if ever a moment could be considered to be such a moment  —  is just such a moment.
I have already said too much.
Humphrey takes his job very seriously, and I do wish to allow him the well-deserved gratification of delivering next week’s news to you undiminished. If you would like him to include your inbox on his route next Monday, and for some unfathomable reason you have not yet signed up for our mailing list, be sure to enter your e-mail address in the subscription box at the bottom of the page. It will make Humphrey so happy he will almost shed a second crystaline tear of joy…
Until next week!